Worth Dying For (A Slaughter Creek Novel) (4 page)

Chapter Four

I
want to see Myra,” Liz told the nurse.

The woman made a low sound in her throat. “I told you, she had a stroke. She hasn’t said anything in months.”

“Please,” Liz said. “Just for a minute.”

The woman huffed, then gestured down the hall. “Room Three B. But don’t upset her.”

Liz offered her a smile, hoping she wasn’t wasting their time. But she had to try to communicate with Myra. She headed down the hall, well aware that Rafe followed close behind.

The strong odor of alcohol and body waste permeated the air as they passed two rooms, a testament to the sad conditions inside the nursing home. When they reached Myra’s room, Liz knocked softly on the door, then gently eased it open.

She poked her head in and saw a frail white-haired woman lying in bed, her eyes closed, her freckled arthritic hands folded across her stomach. She was snoring softly and actually looked peaceful.

“Maybe we should come back,” Rafe suggested.

“No, we’re here. We might as well talk to her before we leave.”

Liz walked over to the window and opened the curtains, letting light spill in through the window. Myra wheezed a breath, then opened her eyes. She looked disoriented for a moment, blinking rapidly as if to figure out where she was.

Sympathy for her welled in Liz’s chest.

Myra looked small in the bed, vulnerable. Had Ester hurt her?

“Myra, my name is Liz Lucas,” Liz said as she walked over to stand beside the bed. “And this is my partner, Special Agent Rafe Hood.”

Myra’s eyes darted sideways as if she understood. Remembering that she was paralyzed, Liz motioned for Rafe to move over beside her. When Myra spotted him, her eyes widened in acknowledgment, suggesting that Myra might be able to communicate after all.

“We understand that you had a stroke, and that it’s difficult for you to speak, but we need to talk to you about a nurse who used to work here named Ester Banning.”

Myra’s breath rasped out, once, twice, three times, as if she was on the verge of a panic attack. Sympathy filled Liz. How horrible to be trapped in a body that wouldn’t work.

“We’re not here to upset you, Myra.” Liz placed a hand over the woman’s thin, gnarled one to comfort her. “We want to help. We’ve been told that Ester wasn’t nice to her patients. That complaints were made against her for mistreating the patients.”

Anguish, distrust, and fear darkened Myra’s eyes, the sheets rustling as she struggled to move and failed.

“Don’t worry, Myra,” Rafe said in a gruff voice. “Ester is dead. She can’t hurt anyone anymore.”

Liz angled her phone so Myra could see the picture of Ester she’d pulled from the DMV records. “This is Ester, the woman who hurt you, isn’t it?”

Myra blinked rapidly, her lips parting as if she was trying to speak, but no sound came out.

“Did she hurt you?”

More rapid eye blinking, and the woman began to wheeze again, a low sob escaping her. Then her body began to jerk, her eyes rolled back in her head, and a strangled sound emerged from her throat.

“She’s seizing,” Liz said. “Call for help!”

Rafe stepped into the hallway for a doctor while Liz tried to soothe Myra. Seconds later a nurse and female doctor rushed in.

“What happened?” the nurse bellowed.

“We were just talking to her,” Rafe said.

The doctor pulled a hypodermic from the pocket of her lab jacket, jammed the needle in the vial of medicine, tapped it, and injected Myra.

She glared at Liz and Rafe. “You two need to leave. Now.”

“I’m sorry,” Liz said. “But we’re working a murder case and Myra knew the victim.”

Myra slowly relaxed as the medication seeped into her system. The doctor gestured to the door. “Out in the hall.”

They stepped outside the door, and the doctor turned to them, hands on her hips. “I’m Myra’s primary care physician. How could Myra possibly help you with your investigation?”

Liz showed her Ester’s driver’s license picture. “Because the victim was Ester Banning, and we have reason to believe she mistreated Myra and other patients here. Did you know her?”

“Yes.” The doctor’s voice cracked. “What happened to her?”

Liz nodded. “She was murdered.”

The doctor gasped.

“According to our research, this is the last place she worked.”

The doctor massaged her temple. “She was fired shortly after I was hired. In fact—” She broke off, hesitating.

“In fact what?”

She folded her arms across her chest. “She was fired because of me. I caught her slapping a patient, then found her shoving pills down Myra’s throat.” Emotions flared in her eyes. “That woman caused Myra’s heart to go into distress, which triggered a stroke.”

Liz’s stomach lurched. If Ester had caused Myra’s condition, someone in Myra’s family might have good reason to hate her.

And a valid reason to want her dead.

His lips curling in disgust, he stared at the picture of Ester Banning on the front page of the
Slaughter Creek Gazette
.

The story didn’t reveal any important details. There was no mention of suspects either. Did the police know that Ester had helped Commander Arthur Blackwood with the CHIMES project? That she was a soldier for his evil? She’d obeyed his every command with no questions asked. Punished the children without a shred of remorse in those cold she-devil eyes.

Just as they all had.

Her picture was deceptive, though. In it, she looked normal. Like a victim.

Ester Banning had been no victim.

He closed his eyes, remembering the way she’d looked at the end. Her stringy matted brown hair had grayed and was gritty from the creek water. Bruises darkened the skin beneath her eyes, and there were cuts on her face. And those eyes . . . they’d been black with evil.

She looked battered and ugly.

She
was
ugly, inside and out.

Nurses were supposed to be tenderhearted. Caring. Gentle. Loving.

Ester had never been loving.

He rubbed a finger along the number carved behind his ear.

Yes, Ester was one of the most coldhearted people he’d ever met. And she had deserved to die. Just as all the worker bees in the Commander’s army did.

Soon they would be picked off, just like flies.

Dead. Crushed. Their blood splattered across the town, running like a river of crimson through Slaughter Creek.

He stared at the master list. Who would be next?

A half hour later, Liz and Rafe left the nursing home. Three different employees had confirmed the doctor’s story about Ester. All said they’d noticed her being cruel to a patient and were relieved when she’d been fired.

They stopped at a small coffee shop to phone Myra’s children. They also needed to speak to the other patient’s son. The fact that he’d filed a lawsuit but dropped it after his mother’s death was suspicious.

Rafe ordered them coffee and punched in Myra’s daughter’s number.

When she answered on the third ring, he put her on speakerphone.

“Hello, Evans residence.”

“Ann?” Liz said.

“Yes, who is this?”

Liz explained the reason for their call. “We saw your mother and spoke with her doctor.”

“You talked to my mother?” Ann’s voice rose a decibel. “What happened? Is she okay?”

Liz inhaled. “She grew anxious when we showed her Ester’s photograph,” she said. “But we assured her that Ester can’t hurt her anymore.”

“My mother’s suffered enough,” Ann said. “Leave her alone.”

“We didn’t mean to upset her, Ann.” Liz hesitated, softening her voice. “Did you have any contact with Ester after she was fired?”

Ann heaved a weary breath. “No. And if you think me or my brother had something to do with her death, you’re wrong. We discussed filing a lawsuit, but the head of the nursing home assured us that Ester would never work there or anywhere in nursing care again.”

“Did they give you a settlement?” Liz asked.

A tense heartbeat passed. “Yes. But I want to clarify something. We only took the money to help pay for Mother’s care. And if there’s any money left after Mother passes, we’ve designated it to go into a trust fund for our children.”

“Of course.” Liz jotted down some notes. “Have you spoken to your brother lately?”

“He’s in Hong Kong on business. He’s been there for a month, and won’t be back for another three weeks.”

“Thank you,” Liz said. “We appreciate your help.”

Ann released a weary breath. “I would like to say that I hope you find Ester’s killer,” Ann said. “Even though I’m not sorry she’s gone. She was a horrible woman who caused my mother’s stroke.”

Liz couldn’t blame Ann for her animosity, but she didn’t think she’d killed Ester.

Because the doctor was right. Whoever had severed Ester’s hands was a psychopath. And Ann sounded . . . normal.

Bitter but normal.

Maybe Regina’s son could give them some answers.

Nick and Brenda joined Jake, Sadie, and Amelia at Jake’s house. Thankfully, Gigi, the woman who’d half raised Jake and was now his daughter Ayla’s caretaker, had carried Ayla to the park, giving the adults an opportunity to talk.

Nick and Jake wanted their families and loved ones unharmed. Sadie agreed to the safe house automatically. She was as protective of Ayla, Gigi, and her sister Amelia as Nick was of Brenda.

Both of them were worried that the Commander’s escape would cause Amelia to relapse in her recovery.

Sadie gripped her twin sister’s hand.

“The Commander escaped?” Amelia asked in a shaky voice.

Sadie nodded. “I’m sorry, Amelia.”

Amelia’s face paled. Nick hated to put her through this ordeal. She’d been diagnosed with DID, dissociative identity disorder, as a result of the abusive experiments she’d undergone and the drugs she’d been given as a child. But she’d made great strides in therapy and merging her alters.

Jake cleared his throat. “Amelia and Sadie—you two, Ayla, and Gigi are going to a safe house until my father is caught.”

Amelia lurched up and began to pace, her fingers tapping a rhythm on her forearm. “I can’t be locked up. It’ll be like I’m a prisoner in that hospital again.”

Jake shot Nick a concerned look.

“You won’t be locked up,” Nick assured her. “I made arrangements for you to stay in a nice log cabin on the river. Think of it as a vacation for you and Sadie.”